therandomfics:

AMA Pt4

Seconds crept by like hours as you waited for Sonny to find his courage to ask you whatever it was that was on his mind. His face was red, though yours was, too, probably from the moments before where you’d finally shared your first kiss.

“Alright, so…” he began, and walked over to where you stood, grabbing a bagel of his own. He began doctoring it up as you stared at him, anticipating driving you crazy. “My family’s Christmas party – it’s all the family. Cousins, aunts, uncles, everyone. It’s at my parents place. It’s pretty fun. My mom gets wine drunk and tells everyone about the time she met Meryl Streep.”

You nodded, taking a bite of your food. “Mhmm..”

He took a bite as well, mulling over his words. You took the opportunity to shuffle to the coffee maker and start a fresh pot.

“Come with me?” He asked, eyes hopeful as he waited for your response.

With your back turned, you tried to hide your smile, but it was still evident when you faced him a moment later. “I’d love to, Sonny,” you beamed, and crossed your small kitchen to stand in front of him. Your hands found his, giving them a squeeze before you rocked onto your tip toes and planted a warm, tender kiss to his lips. “I’d go anywhere with you.”

“You would?” He murmured against your lips, slipping his hands from yours to snake them around your waist. He planted a few small kisses to your lips and pulled you flush against his chest. “Thank God for you,” he whispered, and rested his face against your hair.

Thanksgiving was the same as always; drunk relatives, someone complaining about The Cowboys on TV, and your cousins gossiping about the happenings in Brooklyn – like you cared. You spoke to Sonny several times over the holiday break, leaving you feeling homesick for his company. Though the four days away dragged on, you made sure to see him as soon as you got back. After all, there was something about him that made you feel like everything was right in the world, and you couldn’t risk missing a moment.

The Carisi Family Christmas party rolled around a few weeks later. You’d tried to hide your nervousness for the days leading up to the party, but Sonny knew. He understood, as big families can scare anyone, and he made sure to remind you of that.

To save time, Friday night you stayed at Sonny’s place. It was quaint, almost like a library full of law books. He had offered to sleep on the couch but you declined, instead asking him to lie down with you.

“Are you sure, doll? You know I think the world of you but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he explained, worry evident on his face.

You shook your head and patted the empty place next to you in his bed. “Please? I’ve been wondering for a month to know what it’s like to fall asleep next to you,” you confessed with a splash of color flooding your face. “I know you’re devout. I know we are adults. Your internal conflict is noted.”

He slipped into the bed next to you and pulled you to his chest, where you rested comfortably. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I could stay abstinent for months. Years, even,” he said dismissively.

“Good, because we aren’t even officially together, so I just can’t seem myself having sex with someone who isn’t my official one and only. I mean you are, but, if Facebook doesn’t know, then it’s not real.” You pulled the blanket up over your shoulder and snuggled closer to him.

He was silent for a long while, and for a bit there you thought you had said something wrong. Finally, he broke the silence and simply said, “Check your phone.”

You groaned and rolled over, realizing your phone was on the couch. “Two seconds,” you mumbled and slipped out of bed, careful to pull your shirt down to cover your bare legs. Your phone was still aglow when you grabbed it off of the couch, and the notification left you shaking your head in amusement. Sometime after your comment, he had listed you as his girlfriend on social media – your confirmation was requested.

“Sonny, you’re such a nerd,” you called out as you headed back into his room. You stopped in the door way, realizing he was no longer in bed, and had gotten up to meet you on your way back.

He pulled you close and crashed his lips onto yours, fingers tangling in your hair. You gasped and allowed yourself to be pushed against the door frame, overwhelmed by his sudden dominance. It was welcomed – your body language showed as much – and you slipped your hands beneath his t-shirt to run your fingers along his skin.

“I gotta tell you something,” he whispered, peppering your face with his lips. “I think I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

A sigh of relief left your throat. “I.. I don’t think, Sonny. I know.” You tilted your head to the side and pressed a few gentle kisses to his throat, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. “I can’t explain it, but I know I love you.”

Moments later, Sonny cupped your face in his hands and stared into your eyes, searching for the right thing to say. “I love you, too,” he murmured and captured your lips in one more perfect kiss.

The next morning you awoke, tangled in a mess of blankets and Sonny’s legs. He groaned and rolled over, pinning you down to the bed with half of his body, pretending to still be asleep.

“Sonny,” you whispered and tapped his shoulder. Nothing. You tried again, this time with a little more pressure. He grunted, but didn’t move. With a small, involuntary sigh, you ran your fingers through his hair and kissed his temple. “We have to leave in an hour. Please wake up, angel. I don’t want your family thinking I’m high maintenance or something.”

A muffled laugh sounded as he rolled over and set you free. “Alright, alright. You get first shower. I’ll go make coffee and let my parents know you’re the reason why we will be late.”

The trip to Staten Island was a breeze. The ferry ride was relaxing, and almost felt like you were leaving New York entirely, despite the fact that the city was still quite visible. Sonny drove like a typical New Yorker, perhaps a little worse given his title within the NYPD, but you arrived in one piece at his childhood home, which was already lined with cars. The color must have vanished from your face, as Sonny had reached over and placed his hand on your knee.

“They’re gonna love you, doll,” he assured you, and encouraged you along by opening his door.

After meeting everyone from his Mom, to his Aunts from Queens, to his sisters, his cousins, and a few childhood friends, your head was reeling. You tried to remember everyone, and failed, but you had given it a good shot. Sonny had disappeared to talk to some of his cousins and left you in the care of his sisters.

“So how did you meet our brother?” Bella asked, arching a brow. “How long have you been together?”

“He was the responding unit when I called to report a child in harms way,” you replied, offering them a smile. “I’m a social worker, and a little boy had shown up one night. CPS wouldn’t have been nearly as helpful as SVU. Oh, and about a month.”

They nodded absently and then excused themselves, leaving you alone at the table. Two glasses of wine later, you hadn’t moved, and were beginning to feel a little out of place. You wandered around the outside perimeter, avoiding the large groups of people gathered and sharing stories about family members you didn’t know. They seemed happy. Italian families were always quite like that – not that you’d know, being the only Gardella with auburn hair and blue eyes. Sharp, Anglo-Saxon features, your mother always said.

When you finally found Sonny, he was outside with a handful of cousins and what you assumed were neighbors. One woman in particular, a raven haired woman who had voluptuous written all over her, was leaning into Sonny’s frame and telling a wild story with her hand on his chest. You watched from the window, a deep frown on your face.

“Better watch that one,” Mrs. Carisi said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “She’s conniving bitch. Had a thing for Sonny since they were in second grade. He talks about you a lot, Y/N. Be good to my boy. He’s got an amazing heart. He told me you’re not really Italian. I wanted my grandkids to be full blooded but, if he loves you..” she trailed off, and walked away with an empty glass that once held Chardonnay.

Somewhere behind you, a male voice called out for Sonny. Quickly, and without turning back, you yelled out that you’d get him, and made your escape outside.

The moment Sonny’s eyes found you, he glanced over at the story telling woman and then back to you.

“They’re looking for you inside,” you said softly, pointing back to the house.

“I’ll be right back, then.” He kissed your forehead as he passed you on the way back into the house.

The brunette beauty, who introduced herself as Nicole, eyed you carefully. “So you’re Amanda?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Who? “No. I’m Y/N.”

“Oh,” she said flatly, and rolled her eyes. “Never heard of you. Anyway, I gotta go. Nice to meet you, Aman—Y/N.”

Who was Amanda, and why did a woman you’d just met think that’s who you were? You pulled out your phone and went to Sonny’s Facebook page to search his friends for Amanda. It didn’t take long before you found her – a coworker, blonde, beautiful, lots of tagged pictures of selfies at parties, Sonny holding a baby with Amanda in the picture, days at the park.. Fine, a coworker. Everyone had them. But, why did Nicole assume that you were Amanda? Your stomach felt sick as you sank down onto one of the ice cold benches outside, shoving your phone in your pocket again.

My heart